


The Lady in Red

by ChurroBird



Category: Discord Murder Party (Podcast), Ib (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, here we are, i got hyperfixiated on ib and, i say "back" but this is the first thing ive written for it, yo its ya boi back with the ib au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-31 01:20:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21032888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChurroBird/pseuds/ChurroBird
Summary: It was supposed to be a normal and fun day, Grace Garden and Vincent Reid going to an art gallery on a sunny weekend day.Now, they're being chased by a lady hanging halfway out of a painting, and Grace is barely clinging on to life.So much for a normal weekend.





	The Lady in Red

“God fucking damn it, Grace.” The soldier cursed his friend out, hauling her over his shoulder as he ran.

The detective in question mumbled something unintelligible, a single blue petal hanging from the wilting stem held in her hand. She tilted her head upwards, staring as the painting chasing them became further and further away as the soldier ran.

Saying that a painting was chasing them would make anyone think they were crazy, but that’s what this World of Trawczynski was like.

It was supposed to be a normal day, the two going to an art gallery. Neither of them were much for just meandering around and appreciating paintings, but they had gotten some coupons and decided to go on a weekend.

It was supposed to be a normal, normal day.

The painting, if she recalled, was called The Lady in Red. It’s long brown hair and red dress was live streaks of paint, with a vicious maw of the same material as its upper body hung outside the painting. The wood of the frame made an eerie creaking noise as it scratched against the floor, the painting using its arms to drag itself after them.

But, with the lights flickering out, everyone disappearing, and a railing being dropped, the two had descended into the void of the gallery.

Vincent’s flower, a yellow rose, seems to have eight petals out of the original ten. The painting didn’t get him as bad as her, but his legs were definitely torn at, judging by the long rips in his pants around his shins.

She didn’t know how it happened. One moment she had been walking with him, and then Grace was pinned to the floor, being clawed into by the painting as blue petals fell. Vincent had kicked it off, but it had been too late. She only had one chance left.

Him suddenly turning a corner brought her out of mind, groaning as his shoulder was pressed into her stomach.

“We just have to find one of those fucking vases, and you’ll be okay.”

She nodded, and after what seemed like seconds but also hours, Vincent had stopped running.

He lowered her to the floor, and she turned her head slightly to see him drop both the blue and yellow roses into a vase. As the flower bloomed and all ten came back, she felt her strength return to her, and she took in a deep breath as she got up and brushed her skirt off. 

“Thank you, Vincent.” She finally spoke up, wiping her glasses off with the edge of her shirt. As she returned her spectacles to her face, she saw him give a grimacing smile.

“Well, I had to do what I had to to not let you die on me.”

She gave a small smile back, acknowledging his refusal to accept compliments easily. “Well then, what-”

“...Who are you two?”

A third voice interrupted Grace, and the soldier and the detective jumped, turning together and preparing to run or fight once more.

A short woman stood there, with blonde hair and a red dress.

With a red rose clutched tightly in her hand.


End file.
